


petrichor

by souldews



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, second year kitaichis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/souldews/pseuds/souldews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when a door closes, a window opens.<br/>sometimes, however, it takes a rainy day and a forgotten umbrella for said window to open.</p><blockquote>
  <p>The rain doesn’t seem like it was going to let up any time soon, and Kunimi almost considers just squatting down on the floor of the store when his eyes catch a figure stumbling through the doors, bringing him out of the stupor he’s sunk into while watching the rain. He recognizes who it is at about the same time the other person turns his eyes to lock with his.</p>
  <p>It’s not Kindaichi.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	petrichor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [widow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widow/gifts).



> special thanks to rae who held my hand as i was freaking out over what to write and reassuring me.  
> also to aija, kayable and shaye, who helped read over my work and beta.
> 
> um, to my recipient... i tried...? i hope you like it.

It’s raining.

Kunimi’s just walking out of the convenience store when the cloudy sky overhead rumbles with a vengeance, tears apart, and drenches everyone down below with a shower of rainwater.

He breathes out an annoyed sigh as he ducks back into the convenience store just as the rain picks up in intensity. He’d forgotten his umbrella; he must’ve left it at Kindaichi’s when he was over at the wing spiker’s last weekend. He takes out his phone, swipes the screen to unlock it and types up a quick text.

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
left my umbrella at yours. bring it over?

The reply comes a moment later.

 **From: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
really. where are you

Kindaichi never takes too long to reply; Kunimi likes that about his friend. He types back a reply, thumbs tapping on the keyboard of his phone.

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
the convenience store. the one that’s near the school.

 **From: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
you only text quick when you need something

 **From: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
be there in 30 min. mom still wants me to do dishes

Kunimi huffs lightly, but doesn’t reply to the text; he knows that Kindaichi would know that he’s read it. He simply pockets his phone again, lets his eyes follow the trail of raindrops against the glass panes, racing each other on the automatic door of the convenience store, and waits.

The rain doesn’t seem like it was going to let up any time soon, and Kunimi almost considers just squatting down on the floor of the store when his eyes catch a figure stumbling through the  doors, bringing him out of the stupor he’s sunk into while watching the rain. He recognizes who it is at about the same time the other person turns his eyes to lock with his.

It’s not Kindaichi.

“...Kunimi?”

“...Kageyama.” Kunimi replies cautiously, after a moment.

“Um.” Kageyama fidgets, peels at his drenched clothes that’s clinging to him like a second skin. “Hi. I.. didn’t expect you to be here.” He murmurs at the floor tiles of the convenience store.

The rain pours on, drumming against the streets and at the rooftops. Kunimi stares, unamused.

“I live in Miyagi too,” he points out, deadpan, “can’t I be here?”

Kageyama raises his head. His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No! That’s not what I meant, I just.” The end of his sentence trails off, and Kageyama is left fumbling for words that elude him.

Years later, Kunimi thinks, and Kageyama still sucks at this-- people skills, he means. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed, even if Kindaichi says Kageyama’s different now.

“I get it.” Kunimi says, effectively sparing Kageyama the effort. The look on Kageyama’s face is probably best described as “thankful”, and Kunimi has to admit he finds that rather amusing, it could almost wipe out all that animosity from middle school.

Keyword: almost. But he’s not about to be rude if Kageyama isn’t.

“So did you get stuck in the rain, too?” Kageyama asks. He’s still not looking at Kunimi. Kageyama’s still trying to peel at his shirt, scrunching his nose. Kunimi shrugs.

“Obviously. Why else would I be here.”

“Oh,” Kageyama says.

Nobody says anything after that. They stand side by side for what seems to be forever, Kageyama fidgeting in his place, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt, and Kunimi just stands still, staring at his former teammate.

Then someone bursts through the door.

“Kunimi, I can’t believe you made me walk all the way here just to get you your umbre-- oh.”

“Hi, Kindaichi.” Both Kunimi and Kageyama chorus in unison. Kunimi’s greeting is deadpan, and Kageyama’s sounds small.

“...I didn’t think you were hanging out with him, Kunimi,” Kindaichi says. Kageyama flinches.

“No, he just happened to be here.” Kunimi shrugs, then takes the umbrella from Kindaichi’s hand. Kindaichi is still gaping. Kageyama looks like he wants to run away, to dart through the sliding doors and never look back, but his feet are rooted to the ground. Silence settles over them once more; where it fell over only two earlier, it now reigns over three.

Tension begins to build in the air between them; words unsaid, things from the past, feelings that all three of them have kept in a locked box stowed away in the deepest recesses of their minds after-- well. _that_.

“So.” Kunimi begins, and both Kindaichi and Kageyama jolt slightly; postures tense like a drawn bowstring. “Are you going to wait for the rain to stop too? Or is someone bringing you an umbrella?”

“I…” Kageyama says, then shrugs. “I guess I’m stuck here.” he admits, sheepish. “I haven’t really called anyone.”

Kunimi and Kindaichi look at each other.

“You could come with us.” Kunimi offers. Kindaichi only looks away and huffs, neither rejecting nor supporting the statement.

Kageyama stares at the both of them. “I can wait a little longer.”

“...Suit yourself.” Kunimi shrugs, then makes for the doors, Kindaichi falling into step beside him.

He doesn’t get very far when Kageyama lunges forward and takes both his and Kindaichi’s arms.

“Wait, I mean-- I mean. If. If you don’t mind.”

They realize that the storekeeper, along with a couple of other people, are now staring at them. Kunimi groans softly.

“Let’s just go already. People are staring.”

Kageyama shuffles under the umbrella with Kunimi and Kindaichi, and they begin to walk away, three tall teenagers huddled under two umbrellas. Their footsteps echo in the rain, and for a while the plopping noise of their shoes slapping against wet concrete was the only sound filling in for the lack of conversation between them.

Kageyama is the first to speak again when they reach a fork in the road. “...My house is to the right.” He says, “You both are to the left, right?”

Kunimi and Kindaichi nod. “Yeah,” Kindaichi says, astonished and without malice, “I’m surprised you still remember.”

“We… did hang out at yours a lot.” Kageyama replies, soft, “and we were at Kunimi’s too, sometimes.”

The rain pours on. Two small-sized umbrellas can only cover so much of tall, athletic teenagers, and their arms that the umbrellas fail to cover was beginning to get as drenched as the streets below their feet.

“...We did.” Kunimi acquiesces, holding back the _but you went and left us behind._

(Not that they can’t hear it in the air.)

“...We could…” Kageyama begins, eyes fixed at the rain droplets causing ripples near his feet, “We could. Do that again. If you’d like. Like we used to.”

Kunimi and Kindaichi look at each other.

“...We’re free tomorrow. It’s Sunday and we don’t have work.” Kunimi says.

“Take my umbrella with you. Return it tomorrow.” Kindaichi adds.

Kageyama’s eyes widen. “Really?”

Kunimi makes a vague motion with his hands. Kindaichi scowls. “Don’t make us change our minds.”

Kageyama nods, then takes the umbrella with him.

“I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Mm.” Kunimi makes a vague noise of agreement. “Bye.”

They part ways with a wave; Kageyama goes down the fork on the right, and Kunimi and Kindaichi begin to walk down the left fork.

The rain lifts slightly.

\--

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
are you sure about that

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
about inviting him over

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
you said he changed

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
we’re sixteen now. i think we can forgi|

pause, backspace, 

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
we’re sixteen now. i think there’s no harm

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
i guess

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
go to sleep

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
only you would say that on a saturday night at 10 pm

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
we do have someone to meet tomorrow

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
i’m not hard to wake up like you

 **To: Kindaichi Yuutarou**  
goodnight, kindaichi.

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
...are you just going to ignore that

 **To: Kunimi Akira**  
night

\--

Sunday morning rolls over. Kageyama, Kindaichi and Kunimi look out of their respective bedroom windows, three pairs of eyes blinking away sleep blearily.

The sun shines brightly outside.

**Author's Note:**

> petrichor's defined as "the distinctive scent which accompanies the first rain after a long warm dry spell."  
> and i think. it's a nice fitting title because. after a long while of their relationship being dry. them not contacting each other there's this rain that figuratively and literally kind of gets things started again. the dry spell in their relationship is. well. not so dry anymore. and now they're talking again because of the rain that brought them altogether at the convenience store, something like that... haha, um. yeah.
> 
> i hope this was an enjoyable read, at the very least. thank you for reading my very first finished hqhols work!


End file.
